


Evidence to the Contrary

by DrWhoIsGinnyHolmes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Evil, F/M, Fallen Angels, Good versus Evil, Mild Smut, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Twisted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrWhoIsGinnyHolmes/pseuds/DrWhoIsGinnyHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has gone missing while on a case. Molly, his 8 month pregnant fiancé waits for him to come home. What arrives is not her soon-to-be husband, but something far worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pernicious Path to Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random idea that came to me. Please let me know what you think.

Molly stood at the window of 221b Baker Street and watched the geometrically flawless flakes fall into the shapeless drifts below. _Such a waste of perfection._ She placed her hands on her swollen belly and rubbed in circles to calm the tiny human doing uterine somersaults.

“Don't worry Hamish. Dad will be home soon.” Tears formed in Molly’s eyes as she spoke to her unborn son. She had been saying this every day for the past 3 months. Mycroft assured her they were doing everything in their power to find Sherlock, but they had come up with nothing so far. He had disappeared without a trace while working on a case in Ireland.

 ****She was losing patience and running out of time. She was 8 months pregnant and it was Christmas Eve. Everyone would be joining her soon, but she knew they were only there to keep her mind off her missing fiancé. Mycroft had Anthea organize the evening and the food had been delivered 20 minutes ago. Mrs. Hudson was downstairs making tea and John, Mary, their two children, Greg, and a few others from NSY and Barts were scheduled to arrive in 10 minutes. Molly hurried to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face trying to dispel her dark circles and swollen red eyes.

 ****Suddenly there was a loud boom that echoed through the flat. The floor shook and Molly dropped to her knees, covering her stomach.

 ****“Ooooooh Moooollyyyyy! Where are you, love? Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

 ****_NO. He’s dead. I did his autopsy myself. Jim Moriarty is DEAD._ The door was almost torn off the hinges and Molly snapped her head up to the tall figure outlined by the hallway lights. Her eyes were wide with shock.  **  
**

“No.” It came out in a barely audible whisper.

 ****“Oh yes.” The light brogue she had registered earlier morphed into the deep vibrations of the baritone voice she knew so well. “I’m baaaaaack.” Sherlock lifted Molly up and wrapped his arm around her large waist. “Merry Christmas, my Molly girl. When are our delightful pawns going to arrive? It's time to play a game.” He kissed her hard on the lips and let out a hollow laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “And you are the prize.”

 **  
** Molly gasped and then winced. Pain registered in her hip and she looked down to see a needle being pulled from her flesh.

 **  
** “Don’t worry your pretty little face dear, it won't harm the baby. Now it's time to set the scene. Are you ready to play the damsel in distress?” Sherlock wore his most devilish grin, but his eyes were dull and lifeless.

 ****  
“OUR baby, Sherlock. Our baby.” Molly registered a small spark in Sherlock's eyes at her words before her world went black.


	2. Method or mayhem?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin to talk and Molly learns a few things about her new future husband.

Molly’s eyes flickered open and she blinked up at the ceiling of her bedroom. The room was dark and filled with the familiar smell of tobacco and aftershave.

“Ah you’re awake. Good.” A deep voice came from the darkness.

“Is it still Christmas Eve? Where is everyone? How long have I been out?” She struggled to sit up, but finally gave up and stayed put.

“Yes, I sent them away, and 2 hours. Now please, no more questions. We have much to discuss and I don’t have time for your frivolous interruptions. Apparently your pesky little friends have decided to come by tomorrow instead so we have very little time.”

“Well, alright. Start talking. What’s our story?”

“You have surprisingly little fight in you Molly girl. You would think that the resurrection of your delightfully frightening ex- boyfriend would bring out your fiery passion, but I see that I may have to force it out.” Sherlock sneered, Molly snorted.

“Resurrection? You are Sherlock Holmes, you twat, not Jim Moriarty. He’s DEAD.” Molly ended up shouting the last word sitting up in bed. Sherlock slowly rose from the chair hidden in the shadows as Molly was speaking. He inhaled through his teeth making a sharp hissing sounds followed by a low moan at the release of the breath.

“Oh yes, there it is. That’s the fire I love and loathe. Good golly miss Molly, give me more. FIGHT BACK.” Sherlock back handed her across the cheek and grabbed her chin to bring her face back around only inches from his. “Fight back,” he growled.

Molly growled in return. “If I wasn’t 8 months pregnant with our child, you would pay dearly for that Mr. Holmes.”

“I highly doubt that...Mrs. Holmes.” he sneered. Molly laughed loud and humorless.

“Deduce me then or have you lost that ability as well my dear consulting detective?” She raised an eyebrow at him and saw a brief flash of surprise in his face. When his phone rang he turned on his heel and left the bedroom.

“Sebastian! Richard! Where the bloody hell are you?!” he yelled into the phone. “What is taking so long? Don't insult me by making up excuses. Punishment will not be swift.”

Molly’s eyes swept the room for her cell phone, but she couldn’t find it.

“Looking for this?” Sherlock held her phone out in front of her when he came back into the bedroom. He pulled it back when she tried to reach for it. “Ah ah ah,” he said shaking a finger at her. “I will be keeping this until you learn to behave. Also, you will be on maternity leave for the next 6 months. I have already arranged it with your boss.”

“Six months?! I have work to do, especially since you’re back. You know no one else will work with you.” She crossed her arms and gave him a triumphant smirk. Sherlock chuckled.

“Who said I am back? No one knows I’m here. I used your phone to fake fatigue to send everyone away. I don't intend on showing my face to anyone until I’m ready. My only threat of discovery has been, let’s say, distracted.” Molly gasped.

“What did you do to Mycroft, you heartless bastard?!”

“Let’s just say he can now have his cake and eat it too.” Molly gave him a strange look.

“You got him a bakery girlfriend? Definitely not what I was expecting. Hopefully it wasn’t a drugged cake. That would be too painfully obvious.”

“What the hell is that anyway? Really Molly, I thought you were more intelligent than that.” Molly let out a full belly laugh and winced. Her muscles were tight with tension and felt stretched at the same time.

“Don’t tell me you let one of your plebian helper monkeys take care of him? You should know better than that Sherlock. A drugged cake makes it obvious. A bakery girlfriend is not, or at least a girl who knows how to bake would be good enough. You really didn’t think this through, did you?” She sighed. “What did they do to you, you poor sot?” She mumbled the last part quietly to herself.

Sherlock immediately picked up his phone and began texting. The back and forth happened for a few minutes and eventually Molly had to use the loo. She struggled to swing her legs over the side of the bed and finally accomplished it and ran off. Sherlock whipped around with a snarl, which dropped immediately when he realized where she was going. He scoffed and went back to his phone.

In the loo, Molly took a couple deep breathes while looking at herself in the mirror. She brought her fingers up to trace the bruise forming on her cheek and a few tears slipped out. She angrily swept them off her cheeks and straightened her back as much as she could. As she walked back to the bedroom she looked longingly at the front door, which just began to open at that moment. Molly ran for the bedroom, not even bothering to see who was entering the apartment. Even with Sherlock altered as he was, his presence still made her feel somewhat safe. She shut the bedroom door behind her and took a few steps back into the room while staring at the door. She felt Sherlock's arm wrap around her middle from behind and she sighed as he dug his face into her hair. She wrapped her arm around the back of his neck and kissed his cheek.

“I’ve missed you Sherlock.” She spun in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck. His fingers loosened at her touch and his phone clattered to the floor. His other hand cupped her cheek running his thumb over her bruise. He smirked and they locked eyes, instincts took over and their lips crashed violently together all teeth and tongue. He let a small moan escape against her lips and her hands tangled in his dark curls.

They both jumped when the bedroom door swung open and slammed against the wall. “Hey boss! I swear it wasn’t…” The one Molly assumed was Sebastian stopped mid-sentence. As soon as the door had crashed into the wall Sherlock had pulled a gun seemingly out of nowhere and was pointing it at the noisy intruders. He spoke low and angry, willing the words out through gritted teeth.

“Get out.” The two men scrambled out and they heard the front door close with a bang. Sherlock then turned dark lust filled eyes to Molly. He ran the tip of the gun down her cheek and moved her sweater off of her shoulder with a slight flick of his wrist. She shuttered at the cold feel of the barrel. “Now, where were we my little Molly girl?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having tons of fun writing this story. Please let me know what you think. :)


	3. The simplest things are often the truest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's meet Richard. Or have we already met him?

Molly woke up to light nibbles against her neck and let out a muffled moan. Her hand reached behind her and tangled into the curls she knew so well. She tugged at Sherlock’s hair extracting a low growl from his throat.

“Oh my. Seems your absence has made my body grow fonder.” Sherlock pressed his naked form against Molly’s back and she shivered at the contact. She moaned low when he pressed his hot length against her bottom, fingers digging into her hip and starting to trail down between her thighs. His other arm had wrapped around her shoulders and his fingers stroked her neck, frighteningly constricting against her skin. He swiftly grabbed her chin and forced her head back towards him, smashing their lips together as he began to stroke her wet slit. She released a cry into his mouth and he bit down on her bottom lip. His ministrations increased her silky fluids and with a swift movement he pulled her hips up and settled his length between her thighs, replacing his hand.

“MY Molly. MINE.” He said with a growl as he roughly slid his cock into her wet and waiting center. She let out another loud cry at his swift entrance, loving every thrust, every moan, every growl, every piece that made him come undone in her arms. He gripped her hips, pulling her towards him with every thrust. One hand slipped across her front to swipe along her clit and she let out a moan, growing closer to completion with each press of his fingers. As her peak approached, his thrusts grew more erratic. She let out a long keening cry as she came and his hand came away to grip at her hips, pulling her to him roughly. He pounded into her while she rode out her strongest orgasm since becoming pregnant, seeing stars and barely aware of his grunts until he came inside her with a loud roar. His body shuttered as he rode out his aftershocks, biting her shoulder to keep from continuously crying out. The extraneous stimulation caused Molly’s body to react and she came again, muffling her cries against Sherlock's hand which had come up to cover her mouth.

“Shhhhh! Someone is on the stairs.” Molly’s eyes darted to her bedroom door and then back to Sherlock. He was watching the door intently, listening for any signs of who it could possibly be. “Oh for fucks sake!” She groaned with the loss of contact when he pulled out and proceeded towards the source of his irritation. He grabbed his dressing gown off the back of the door and threw it at her, growling out his next statement. “Put that on. We have visitors.” He swung the bedroom door open and swaggered out into the hall naked as a jaybird.

“I see your modesty wasn’t affected,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes, throwing on her knickers and his dressing gown. Sherlock popped his head back in and lifted an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t see you complaining,” he said with a smirk. The corner of her mouth lifted in amusement as she shook his head at his antics. There were some things that wouldn’t change, but she knew he was different. She had to try and get in contact with John, he would know what to do. She grabbed Sherlock’s other dressing gown off the back of the door and brought it out to him. She was brought face to face with a quick pacing, very angry, naked consulting detective. She found the sight more than amusing and failed to stifle the giggle that escaped her. Three heads turned towards the noise and she was struck by the level of intelligence she saw in each set. The bumbling idiot routine must have been for show and that pissed her off. A sneer began to form on her face and she saw two sets of eyes widen and one set narrow at her sudden change. She schooled her features as best she could, realizing there was only so much she could do to fool Sherlock. She proceeded to the kitchen to make tea and coffee after throwing Sherlock his dressing gown. As much as she enjoyed the delightfully bitter taste the Colombian coffee had before, she had to reduce her caffeine intake and was demoted to only tea, upon doctor's orders.

“Black, two sugars! We’ll be downstairs. Behave, Molly.” She heard ring out from the sitting room. She assumed things had been rearranged in 221C to accommodate two more people and was just hoping that Mrs. Hudson was still visiting her friend. Besides the noise, the initial shock of seeing Sherlock again might just kill her and she’d like to avoid that _thank you very much_ _._ As she was waiting for the kettle to boil and the coffee to brew, she began to rummage through the drawers as quietly as possible. She knew he was smart enough to incapacitate her mobile while she was left alone, but maybe she could find something useful in the drawers; a piece of paper, a pen, anything. _Ah ha! He didn’t take everything._ She had located a pen in the back of one of the drawers, but no paper. Molly was racking her brain to find something to write on when she heard steps coming towards the kitchen. She tucked the pen away in the knife drawer, praying that he hadn’t become violent enough to search that particular one. She spun around and gave a squeak of surprise at the sight of the black eyes and well tailored suit that had haunted her dreams for the past several years, Jim Moriarty.  _Well, technically it isn’t Jim, but Richard, however they are remarkably identical._

“What do you want?” She put her hands around her swollen belly trying to sooth the tiny being dancing on her bladder. Richard smirked slightly.

“Your fiancé wanted me to check on the beverages, and you. Make sure you weren’t causing trouble.” _Oh. He has the lilting Irish accent as well. He’s an exact copy._ Her mind had just latched onto an idea.

“You taught him how to speak like Jim.” Richard laughed.

“Of course I did. There is very little difference between myself and my cousin Jim, besides that whole psychopath part. Statistically it isn’t impossible, but it is very rare that cousins look identical. I guess that’s what happens when two sets of identical twins get married and the gene skips a generation. Let me introduce myself: Richard Moriarty, at your service.” He bowed smoothly, taking her hand and kissing it with just as much grace as his bow.

“I thought your name was Richard Brook.” He chuckled

“That was my stage name. Unfortunately, my little cousin had some fun with my name awhile back and now it is impossible to return to theater. Believe it or not, the last name Moriarty has gotten me further in this world than Brook ever did.”

Another light bulb went off in her head. “But you are not of the same disposition as Jim was, so you needed help. You found Moran and then put out rumors that Moriarty was back from the dead years later. Those rumors planted the bait and now here we are.” A slow clap emanated from the impeccably dressed man before her wearing an unsettling smile.

“Jim said you were more observant than people gave you credit for, but I didn’t believe him until now. Being intimate with two of the brightest people in the world has done wonders for your already high intelligence, Molly-bug.” Her eyes widened. No one had called her that in a long time. _Not since…_ _._ She jumped when the kettle whistled, jostling her out of her thoughts. She tried to hide the surprise in her face by returning to the task at hand. She made up the tea tray and Sherlock's coffee to bring downstairs and it was promptly whisked away by Richard. “Can't have you drugging our tea, now can we?” He winked at her and left the flat with the tray.

Molly briefly retreated to the loo and upon re-entering the kitchen sat heavily in a chair, reaching with shaking hands towards her tea. Her head was spinning with the dozens of alternate realities that assaulted her memories of Jim Moriarty. She began to get a headache and went for a lie down in bed. Her last thoughts before falling asleep were drenched in fear. _I never told anyone about Molly-bug._


End file.
